


The Waiting Game

by Rosencrantz



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz/pseuds/Rosencrantz
Summary: You Won't Believe What This One Vulcan Did When The Vulcan Soulmark Database Didn't Have A Match For Him!





	The Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lah_mrh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lah_mrh/gifts).



> I am grateful to Memory-Alpha, Memory-Beta, and My-Beta TheDevilChicken in that order.
> 
> Illustrated by [Star Trek Signs by Omi-Key](http://omi-key.deviantart.com/art/Star-Trek-Signs-10788664).

If Spock looked at the mark on his wrist at an angle, it looked like three pandree in a wrestling match. His mother, Amanda, would tell him that it meant that he was destined for a brave lover. His father simply said that it matched no one Vulcan yet born, so Spock would have to wait and suffer before a suitable mate was found for marriage. Unlike his father, whose mark had faded when his soulmate had died in their youth, and his mother's inability to find hers, Spock's mark remained bright and strong which meant that somewhere there was someone for him. If he could find them.

Spock went into the Academy since he had few obligations. It was interesting seeing the marks on other species - the glow of Andorian eyes that faded when they found their match, the careful recordings of the first words of Tellarites (with adjustments for the danger of auto-translators!), but humans had a depressingly human system. They got a tattoo. Of course they would endure avoidable pain to find a partner. That was _so human_.

As was the human superstition around it. While Spock had, in passing, read up on the nature of the soulmark tattoos, he had never seen one in person or really encountered a proper explanation to how it was performed. In Starfleet he had, perhaps, glanced around in the showers to see if he could see one, but it was impossible to tell which were marks and which were simply body decoration. And as he had no intention of becoming familiar with a human, half human though he was, the mystery remained.

Wherever the humans got their marks tattooed, it was not visible when they were in uniform, either. Nor was Spock's. Spock was pleased, not having to deal with the visibility of, say, an Andorian, and the speculation about your love life it raised.

When he was assigned to his five-year mission away on the Enterprise, he thought to himself that if his future spouse developed their soulmark and put it on record, he had a five-year obligation keeping him from them.

An interesting idea, to know someone was there for you but you could not be there for them.

"You heard, didn't you? What the Captain saw?" said Scotty, making conversation as Spock observed a repair of his console.

"The captain has seen many things," said Spock neutrally. It was two years into the Enterprise's mission and he had reached the point where he could not imagine serving under any other captain. Although, simply given chance and the vagaries of time, it was inevitable things would change one day. But there was no point in mentioning it.

"Oh, it was on a Klingon in the sickbay that the good doctor was treating after the firefight," said Scotty with a grin. Spock raised an eyebrow as his only reply.

"Well!" said Scotty with enthusiasm, "he had a full **name** on his stomach! Klingons get names for their soulmates! Doesn't that beat all."

"Inefficient. Given their tendency for in-fighting and royal hierarchy, it would be too simple to get into the royal family by naming your children a particular name plus body modification," said Spock with disapproval.

"Lad, we don't choose how we work. If I could have just been born with something that told me who I'd love, that'd be a fine thing. Instead I had to get a tattoo on my ribs and that didn't half hurt."

"There are painless methods to get a tattoo," said Spock with confusion.

"Not the right way! Here, I'll show you," said Scotty and to Spock's even higher eyebrow, Scotty pulled up his uniform shirt to show a... mark rather like what was naturally on Spock's wrist. Not similar in image, but in effect. Spock wondered now what he'd mistaken for birthmarks on other humans.

"Lieutenant commander, this is not appropriate," said Spock, filing away the information for later.

"Naw, I know, but what with you being a Vulcan and all, sometimes you got to get educated," said Scotty. "But if you're so bothered, I can finish this on my own."

Spock shook his head. The equipment being added to his private console to deal with the upcoming nebula consortium was too sensitive to be handled by anyone but the very best, and he wanted to observe to learn about it. Which meant both he and Scotty stayed.

"Right then, so! You wouldn't believe where the marks are on Caitians!" 

"I will get along quite well without this information," said Spock.

"Vulcans," said Scotty. "No sense of fun."

The thought kept coming to Spock, probably a curse of his human half, as he did his duties and went through the little things that cropped up in the voyage of the Enterprise. Human marks looked so like Vulcan ones.

He lay in bed thinking about it, before going into meditation exercises to sleep.

When awake, he would wonder if they kept an archive of marks, like Vulcans did.

Was it a human he was soulmate to?

The mission continued. Spock didn't quite put the thoughts out of his mind, but it didn't nag at him like in those first few weeks. All things considered, life on the Enterprise was fulfilling.

Challenging work, a good crew, and a deep friendship with Jim that Spock would even admit to beyond respecting him.

McCoy could take a bit of work...

"You green-blooded goblin, hold still," said McCoy as he gripped Spock's head hard in one hand and ran a repair tool over the cut in his cheek with the other.

"Doctor, do you need to attend another sensitivity session?" said Spock mildly.

"I think he has a permanent seat for those, Spock," said the captain from his hospital bed.

"You're too injured to sass. Doctor's orders," said McCoy. Jim grinned.

A typical away mission had led to Kirk and Spock both having to come down to the planet to deal with a hostage situation with their away team. The resident aliens, the Pathors, a paranoid group of snake-like beings, had taken the away team prisoner and said they would be fed to the volcano if their leader did not come to negotiate for them. Spock had come along to protect the captain - Jim.

And protect him he had. They'd both ended up injured by the fallen rocks while escaping the volcano after getting the crew to safety and been slithered after by the Pathors, but Spock's strength had kept those injuries non-fatal. 

Something he was, in his half-human heart, dearly grateful for.

"Let me see your arm," snapped McCoy.

"If you must," said Spock, and let McCoy take his broken arm to repair. McCoy ended up having to cut off the sleeve due to the damage and then he dropped Spock's arm, suddenly. Spock's training kept him from yelling in pain.

"Bones!" said Jim. "I thought you had a better bedside manner than that?"

"I do. It's fine," said McCoy. "You want that painkiller **now** , Spock?"

Spock, feeling every inch of his broken arm thanks to the doctor, gave a neutral nod. McCoy injected him and the pain blessedly stopped.

"What got into you?" said Jim, still scolding.

"Patient-doctor confidentiality," snapped McCoy. The captain shrugged, winced, and closed his eyes.

"I could use more of that."

"Not with your head injury," said McCoy. 

Spock wondered what could possibly have startled the doctor so much on his arm, but as the drugs reached his brain he didn't particularly care after another minute.

Jim invited Spock up to his room to play a game of strategy after that night's captain's log detailing the incident with the Pathor. Spock had accepted without hesitation. The captain was a worthy opponent that Spock relished challenging.

"You know," said Jim as he moved a piece. "In a weird way they made me miss home."

"Oh?" said Spock.

"Well, we had a lot of snakes by the property, horses hated them, but it wasn't the first time something like that had chased me down," said Jim. He grinned at Spock.

"Mmm," said Spock. "They resembled a creature from my planet, the pandree. Notorious for setting traps."

"Well, it's a good evolution," said Jim. "You know, my tattoo looks a bit like snakes. I guess that's why I've always liked them. Even when they're after me."

Spock paused, then put down the piece he was about to move.

In his usual calm tone, he asked:

"May I see your mark, Jim?" He couldn't keep the familiarity out of his request.

Jim looked surprised, then shrugged and lifted his shirt. The tattoo on his ribs looked like three pandree wrestling.

"Jim," said Spock, "I believe we have much to discuss."


End file.
